Pretty Girls Dancing(82)
The mental picture faded, but the regret didn’t. It had been weak to fall back on the medication when Janie had powered through her anxiety Friday night while refusing it. Claire could be proud of her daughter while admitting to herself that she didn’t have Janie’s emotional fortitude. Or her brains, for coming up with a plan that would have the police certain to check Kelsey’s connection to the photographer, without exposing Claire’s part in destroying the pictures. She should be ashamed that her youngest daughter had seen through her lie. But she lacked the will to feel anything but a weary sort of gratitude.
“When did this come?” David came into the kitchen, waving a fat envelope. “Why didn’t you give it to Janie?”
Claire turned from the counter, two plates in her hand. She nearly dropped them when she recognized what he held.
“It’s from Stanford.” He grinned, clearly delighted. “Janie’s going to be over the moon.” He tested the envelope between two fingers. “Thick. This isn’t a polite rejection letter. She’s in. Wonder what kind of deal they’re offering her.”
Swallowing hard, Claire forced her feet to continue to the table. She carefully set down the full plates and returned to the counter for the tea she’d prepared for herself. Coffee, of course, for David. “Umm . . . I think it was Friday?” She pretended to be unsure. As if the arrival of the letter hadn’t rocked her back on her heels. It had dread pounding through her until that call from the sheriff’s office had wiped everything else from her mind. She’d convinced herself that this day wouldn’t come. Had spun an elaborate fantasy that the prestigious university would have no interest in her daughter’s SATs with the stratospheric science and math scores, her long list of AP classes, and perfect grades. That had been a far easier fabrication to believe than the one she had: that seeing the letter wouldn’t cement Janie’s college decision.
The thought of her daughter being halfway across the country less than a year from now had her throat drying out, a familiar panic spreading through her.
“I found it in the drawer of the hallway table, when I was looking for a different garage-door opener.” David went to the refrigerator and attached the letter to a magnetic clip where Janie would be certain to see it, since the fridge was the first place she headed to upon arriving home. “I don’t know why you would have put it there.” He turned then, and catching sight of her expression, his gaze turned shrewd. “Claire, you weren’t trying to hide this from her, were you?”
“Honestly, David, of course not.” She sat down and spread her napkin on her lap. “I don’t even recall putting it away. The phone must have rung when I brought in the mail, and I shoved it in there absentmindedly and forgot about it. Janie didn’t come home after school, remember? With everything else that happened that night, it completely slipped my mind.”
He took a seat, reaching for his coffee. “Well, I know you haven’t wanted to think about her choosing Stanford over OSU. But we have to consider what’s best for her future. It’s probably time to make an appointment with that counselor, Rimble. She can help us evaluate the best college offers as they come in. Not that Janie will need to consider finances first and foremost.” He set down his cup and picked up the ham sandwich she’d fixed. “We have plenty in her college account to afford wherever she chooses, even if the package is stingy.”
Of course they did. Claire nibbled at the edge of her sandwich. For the first time, she almost resented the lifestyle David’s success afforded them. Although Janie’s academic résumé alone would be strong enough for her to snare the interest of most universities.
Her appetite had fled. Instead of eating, she watched David enjoy the meal she’d fixed. In that age-old trick of Mother Nature, he was growing more handsome with the passing years. His hair was flecked with silver, where many men his age were balding or totally gray. He’d shocked her by coming home Friday night after the phone conversation they’d had. He’d attended his meeting first, of course, but he’d been here before she’d gone to sleep. She’d feigned exhaustion, letting Janie be the one to lead him from the room and apprise him of the events of the evening. Claire hadn’t been able to relive them again. It had been traumatic enough being in that cramped space with Janie and the deputies. Listening to the recording of that horrid man admit that he’d taken those revealing pictures of Kelsey.
What else had he done? Had Kelsey gone there alone? Those were the questions her mind had seized on to worry about like a dog with a bone. Surely not. Surely she’d had the sense to take someone else along, like Janie had.
But Kelsey had been unpredictable her last few weeks at home. As great as Claire’s need was to reconstruct every moment of their daughter’s last days in West Bend, she wasn’t certain she had the fortitude to face what the interview with Newman might reveal.
With effort, she searched for a topic to take her mind off her daughter. “How’s work? I haven’t seen Kurt and Linda for ages.”
“Fine. Same old, same old.” He reached for the newspaper sitting on the table in front of him. “Kurt will never slow down.”
And neither, it seemed, would David. She managed to take a bite of the sandwich. Chewed slowly. He’d headed back to Columbus on Saturday, but not until late afternoon, and he’d surprised her by coming straight home afterward. He must have been more worried than he let on about Janie’s run-in with the sheriff’s office, although they’d barely discussed it. Claire had the feeling that between her daughter and husband, she was being wrapped in gossamer, as though she might shatter with a careless word.